


Meet the Family

by MusicalFangirl00193



Series: National Days [25]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Kingsman (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, For National Mystery Series Week, Gen, I have no idea where this came from, Inspired by a comment by Johnlock+Hartwin4ever, M/M, Merlin is Johnlock's son, because i am trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12298932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalFangirl00193/pseuds/MusicalFangirl00193
Summary: Eggsy finds John Watson's blog, the one that contains his exploits with Sherlock. He thinks it's utter horseshit. He is promptly proven wrong.





	Meet the Family

**Author's Note:**

> Because I am literal trash and cannot help myself, have this.
> 
> Contains several mixed headcanons for Sherlock and James Bond as well as Kingsman. Also, timelines, what timelines?

“Harry, have you seen this shit?” Eggsy asked, waving his phone, with a blog open, in front of the other’s face. “It’s absolutely mental, none of this shit is possible, especially considering how old the guy is now.”

Harry just glanced at the screen, “You haven’t seen it before?” he asked, completely uninterested. 

“You have?” Eggsy shot back, “Harry, this is utter horseshit.”

“Of course I have,” Harry snorted. “It’s a wonderful way to irritate Merlin, John sends me his draft before he posts it, and there’s no way he can stop it. Don’t you have a briefing on the other side of the manor in five minutes?”

“Fuck,” Eggsy cursed, glancing at his watch and dashing out of the room.

* * *

“Eggsy.”

Eggsy’s head snapped up, eyes sharp. “How do you know my name?” he hissed, looking at the man in the door of his cell at the Met.

“My nephew seems to be fond of you,” the man with salt and pepper hair that was more salt than pepper sighed. “Come on, Myc wants to meet you before Harry barges in with some story Hamish cooked up for him.”

Eggsy hesitated it for a moment before shrugging and following the man out of the room. “Who’re you?” he asked as the man led him through the maze that was New Scotland Yard. “I mean, you know who Harry is, but I have no bloody idea who Hamish is. And who’s your nephew and why does he matter in any of this?”

“Our nephew,” a man with thinning silver hair said, from the office the first man led Eggsy into, “Is Hamish Watson-Holmes, though sometimes he prefers to go by Hamish Smith. You know him as Merlin.” He turned to face the two who had entered the room. “I am Mycroft Holmes, and this is my husband, Chief Constable Gregory Lestrade.”

“Didn’t know Merlin had any family,” Eggsy said. 

“He actually has quite a bit,” Greg said with a smirk. “He just doesn’t want people to know, he thinks it ruins his street cred. He’s got,” here Greg had to pause to think. “His fathers; two sisters; four uncles, including the Quartermaster of MI6, one of the best 00 agents to ever exist, and Mycroft here, who basically is the British government; as well as various cousins and second cousins scattered throughout London. There’s also that weird thing he has with Moriarty, I’m not sure how it works, but I do know that he brings up his ‘Uncle Jim’ whenever he wants to irritate Sherlock.”

“Bloody hell,” Eggsy collapsed into one of the chairs in front of the desk Mycroft was standing in front of. “I need a drink.”

“I assume you learned about martinis at the hands of Mr. Hart?” Mycroft said with a raised brow.

“Course,” Eggsy nodded. “So that explains how you know Merlin, how about Harry?”

Mycroft scoffed. “He has been my nephew’s best friend since they were boys, of course I know him.” He handed Eggsy the drink he had mixed. “They should be here within the next five minutes, I would drink up if I were you, because we’re going to 221B as soon as they get here.”

“221B?” Eggsy asked.

“Hamish has been avoiding his fathers’ calls,” Greg said dryly. “John said not to take no for an answer. And when he gets that look in his eyes, you don’t tell him no.”

“Everyone thinks Da’s the one you need to be afraid of,” Merlin said from the doorway. “But even he’s terrified of disappointing Pop. Did you have to kidnap my agent Uncle Greg.”

“John said any means necessary,” Greg said without shame. “I’m smarter than Sherlock in that when John says jump, I don’t even bother asking how high.”

“Your pop got terrifying when he came back from his second tour,” Harry said from beside Merlin. “Alright Eggsy?”

“I’m fine Haz,” Eggsy smiled. “What’s going on?”

“It looks like we’ve been invited to family dinner,” Harry answered. “You remember that blog you’ve been reading?”

“The one that’s made up?”

“Well it isn’t,” Harry said with a grin. “Are you ready to meet the great Sherlock Holmes?”

“Bloody hell,” Eggsy murmured. “This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” Harry said, a manic gleam in his eye that he usually only got before a good fight. “It’s going to be glorious.”

“Only because you don’t have to face my fathers,” Merlin muttered, following as his uncles led the way out of the room.

* * *

“Harry, you brought eye candy!” a woman about Eggsy’s age with extremely black hair exclaimed when she opened the front door.

“You’re being rude Melody,” Harry said chidingly.

“You’re no fun Harry,” Melody responded with a pout before turning to Eggsy. “Melody Hudson, I’m the landlady here, which basically accounts to housekeeper for the two upstairs. Got the post from my nan.”

“She was a good woman,” Harry said fondly. “Nobody could make those two behave like she could.”

“Gary Unwin,” he responded with a smile, “Call me Eggsy. Mycroft and Greg kidnapped me to draw Merlin in for family dinner.” 

“That sounds like Uncle Myc,” Melody said with a nod. “How’d you get dragged into this, Harry?”

“I wasn’t going to leave my fiance at the tender mercies of Mycroft,” Harry said.

Melody whistled. “Never thought you’d settle down Haz, but then again, Nan always said the same about Sherlock.”

“If you want a surprise,” Harry said, leading the group up the stairs, “Ask Hamish about Roxanne.”

“You’re kidding me,” Melody gasped.

“My dear, I would never,” Harry smirked.

“Bloody hell.”

“Melody Ann Hudson, what have I told you about your language?”

“Sorry Uncle John,” Melody said, sounding truly contrite. “Hey Hamish!” she called, dashing across the apartment to Merlin.

“You must be Eggsy,” the man said, smiling at Eggsy. “I’m John, Hamish’s Pop.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Watson,” Eggsy said, shaking the offered hand. “I’m a huge fan of your blog.”

“He thought it was a work of fiction,” Harry put in.

John laughed. “It all is a bit fantastical, isn’t it?” he said. “You seem like a good boy Eggsy, how’d you get pulled in with this lot?”

“Isn’t it obvious John?” a tall man said, coming to stand next to John. “Harry is his knight in shining armor, it’s written all over both of their faces.”

“Sherlock,” John said, voice disapproving. 

“I’m just looking out for our boys John,” Sherlock countered. “Harry, what can you tell me about this Roxanne? Hamish seems quite serious about her.”

“She’s James and Percival’s girl,” Harry answered. “Keeps him level.”

“Good,” Sherlock nodded. “I’ll have Mycroft arrange a meeting.

“She’s quite a bit jumpier than Eggsy here is,” Harry warned.

“I’ll pass on the message.”

“No you won’t,” John murmured. “But I will. Thank you for the warning Harry.”

“Any time John. Is James here?”

“He and Quinn are running late,” John said, “We’ll have dinner as soon as they get here, they promised to bring the takeaway.”

“Takeaway?”

“You don’t want to eat anything cooked in this house,” Harry assured him. “Sherlock isn’t that good at keeping his experiments from tainting the food.”

Eggsy nodded before retreating to the corner of the room, watching the people mill about the room, everyone obviously familiar and friendly with everyone else.

“Are you alright love?” Harry asked, joining Eggsy in his corner.

“There’s quite a few people here,” Eggsy murmured.

“It is a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” Harry agreed. “I remember the first time I came home with Hamish, it was Christmas, and everyone was here then as well. Quite a bit for a young boy who had only parents that were rarely home.”

“How do you manage it?”

“Well, Melody’s Nan was still alive back then,” Harry answered, “She was a wonderful woman, Mrs. Hudson. She took me down to her flat, down in A, and we had a lovely tea together. She told me how Sherlock had saved her life, and then she told me how John had saved his life, saved all of their lives, repeatedly. And then, I went up to Hamish’s room, hid there until he came up with two mugs of hot chocolate and we stayed up there for the rest of the night, telling stories. After that, it was like I’d known all of them my whole life, and they immediately accepted me as family. They’re good people Eggsy.” 

“I believe that,” Eggsy said as two more men entered the room, both carrying an exorbitant amount of takeaway containers. “Looks like dinner’s here.”

“Looks like it,” Harry agreed, letting the flow of the room pull them both towards the table.

“We should have everyone over some time,” Eggsy said. “Cook them a proper dinner.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea love,” Harry said with a smile, sitting at the table next to Eggsy. 

“To family,” John said, standing from his position at the head of the table, holding up his glass of water.

“To family,” everyone at the table agreed, lifting their own glasses.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, not British, I don't own Kingsman, Sherlock, or any of the James Bond movies.
> 
> Also, because of my lack of Britishness and the fact that I never leave my room, I know absolutely nothing about the British police and how titles work there, I did a bit of googling and gave Greg one that sounded good and seemed to be high in the pecking order.


End file.
